I
woke this morning feeling like death warmed up. What was that all about? I made
toast and had a look-see at the Internet. It hadn’t gone anywhere and hadn’t
changed. Trivia and squabbles abounded; there was one interesting argument on
one of the dachshund Facebook groups in which a person had posted a video of
her dog supposedly having some sort of fit. She wanted to know if anyone else’s
dog had had a similar fit… All of my dogs do what her dog had been doing; her
dog was clearly dreaming. But there were those who couldn’t cope with the
concept of a dog having a dream… I didn’t get involved. But I did get involved
in the puppies’ argument. With dozens of toys, they both wanted to play with
the same one. The toy in question being whichever toy the other one had.
Sometimes they can be rather quarrelsome…
Pausing
only briefly to collect a carrier bag of old newspapers from Paul (always
useful!) I set off on a little road trip. As I drove the pundits on the
radio were interviewing the leader of the Scottish Nationalists Nicola
Sturgeon. Despite having had their arse quite comprehensively handed to them on
a plate in the independence referendum of eight years ago, they won't take
"you lost" for an answer and were again trying to get another
referendum. If the government won't allow it, Ms Sturgeon was expounding a
frankly ridiculous suggestion in which the next general election would double
up as an independence referendum. If the Scottish Nationalists won in Scotland,
then that should be taken as a result of an independence referendum in favour
of their leaving.
This
was followed by "Desert Island Discs" which featured some
doctor who started a charity by which doctors in war zones could phone medics
in safe zones to ask for second opinions.
Sadly
this chap had a diabolical taste in music. People on that show usually do.,
I
stopped off at the Rolvenden pond shop for a bell fountain attachment. I also
stopped about a dozen times because of endless road works. I say "road
works"; perhaps a third of the coned off and traffic light controlled
areas actually had people working. Most were just sections of the road which
had been coned off for no discernible reason.
But
it wasn't that long before I was at my brother's house, and from there a short
hop to the East Hastings Angling Society's club house. We met a few people to
finalise arrangements for next week's funeral, and then it was on to "Road
Trip Part II" from Hastings to work.
There
were just as many road works between Hastings and Maidstone as there were
between Ashford and Hastings. And just as few people actually working in them.
I was rather knackered by the time I got to work, which seems to be a theme of
late shifts.
Perhaps
I shouldn't do quite so much before them?
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